


space being (don't forget to remember)

by karrenia_rune



Category: Willow (1988)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: A neighboring kingdom sends their son for fosterage and Sorsha and Madmartigan become closer to each other. Also Madmartigan  likes to tell tales of his adventures to a 'captive' audience which leads to a compromise and a new beginning.
Relationships: Madmartigan/Sorsha
Kudos: 3





	space being (don't forget to remember)

**Author's Note:**

> This can be considered a sequel to "Turn of the Tide". It isn't necessary to have read that one before this one but it does pick up from that one left off.

Disclaimer: All of the characters with the exception of Augustus are mine and belong to their respective creators and producers. They are only 'borrowed' for the purposes of the story.

"The Space Between (don't forget to remember")

It might have been a good idea if he had actually read the memo left on his end-table beforehand, But, really? Who had time to read memos? Well, that meant the ones pertaining to the meetings and assorted court function that Sorsha insisted were vital to the smooth running of their kingdom. 

He'd learned to read the arc and degree of furrowing of those crimson-brows whenever he did anything remotely bone-headed.

While it often seemed that Madmartigan simply had no filter whenever it came to making decisions that affected his own well-being; and his risk-taking often bordered on fool-hardiness; she knew better. It was just that, now that they were a couple what affected him also affected her. 

Sorsha had to admit that the adrenaline rush of indulging in dangerous adventures had its merits and its appeal; now that she had inherited the throne such things had to be dialed back a little.  
Madmartigan would get up early some mornings and bring her breakfast in bed.

He called it being romantic; she called it him being an overgrown adolescent in a grown man's body. It was done in a biting tone but with loving fondness. She would welcome the sputtering rages that they both often brought out in each other because the fight and makeup later love-making was incredible.

And, he never forgot despite the fact she had exchanged her well-worn armor, greave, swords, and shields; for gowns and a crown, underneath all of that, she was still a soldier. 

It was only that the battles of statecraft and politics and courtly etiquette took place on a vastly different ground than that of the battlefield that she had known for so long.  
She knew that her husband often perplexed and exasperated the palace staff, but he was learning, even if he still had a way to go.  
'Enough wool-gathering’ she mentally chastised herself, and they did have to send out a welcoming party to greet the envoy and the prince consort of the neighboring kingdom of Segovia in a few hours and she best get on that straight away.

Sorsha had sent the royal advisor along with a suitable escort.

“The prince consort of Segovia, Augustus Cornelius Belgravia of Segovia, "was announced Madmartigan either or one takes a shine to the young man but have vastly differing opinions on what is best for him and their territories. 

Welcoming feast, later that evening.

“Stop telling him gory battle stories, darling. Only, if that’s what you wish to hear, Augustus, dear.”

“No, really, it’s fine,” Prince Augustus,” replied, gulped and idly spun the fork in the plate of specially prepared soup, the remains of a chicken paella having been whisked away by the palace staff. It was all very good but he could not help but feel nervous at having been sent to a new kingdom even though it was a common practice among neighboring kingdoms to send their young people for fostering in other realms.  
It was a time-honored tradition with the intention of establishing good-will and perhaps more.

He had thought he would be prepared for anything, but Queen Sorsha’s kingdom was not like anything he had been expecting. For one thing, protocol seemed to be a lot looser than in his home of Segovia.  
For another, table talk did not revolve around recounting battle exploits and strategy. Prince Augustus hopes he was not appearing either too flummoxed or embarrassed.

“Then how about the time Alaric and I went hunting and it began to snow like and we got lost and there was a snow-slide up in the higher slopes forcing us to take shelter from the elements in this cave,” Madmartigan excitedly expounded, his face flushed by both healthy gulps from his gold-enameled wine cup and obvious excitement about telling the account. 

“Then what happened?” Augustus asked. He was a young man and though Segovia was much more traditional and prided itself on its centuries of history, lore, and culture; it still had its share of strife and invasion. Augustus could not help but be both a little envious and longing to have adventures of his own that he would relate with such gusto one day.

“Well, it seems that the cave we were sheltering in for the evening had already been spoken for."

“The Bear, Dear Husband?” Sorsha asked in a long-suffering tone.

“The Bear, Dear Wifey,” Madmartigan replied patting her on the shoulder.

“You’ll have to forgive him,” Prince Augustus, even after a year or two, we still haven’t house-broken him. He gets, shall we say, carried away.”

“I see,” Prince Augustus replied. 

“Do you?” 

Madmartigan, please tone it down a little. If only to spare the delicate sensibilities of young ears."

“He’s of warrior-age, well almost,” Madmartigan demurred.

“Almost. I’m fifteen, well almost,” Augustus griped.

“It’s the almost that worries me,” Sorsha replied.

“What do you suggest?” Madmartigan asked.

“A Compromise, then?”

“I get to regale him with tales of my exploits as the best swordsman in all the land, and then he can come to you and compare notes. You can tell him how to manage a kingdom."

If I didn’t know him any better, “she smiled fondly, I’d swear half of those stories about him were woven from whole cloth and then other half were actually true.”

“My Oma tells me that we’re all the heroes of our own stories, Augustus replied with a smile at them and the rest of the courtiers seated around the Great Table and nervously reached up to rub at the back of his dark and curly brown hair.

Sorsha nodded as at pearls of wisdom. “Young Sir, your Oma sounds like a very wise lady indeed.”

“Did you hear that, oh husband of mine?” Sorsha asked. “

“Is that a challenge?” Madmartigan casually asked, not even reacting at the sharp elbow in his flank. 

“Maybe it is; maybe it is not. We’ll have to see how events play out. Now, won’t we. Oh, before we concluded this welcoming feast, everyone please raise your glasses and in honor of our newest guest, to Prince Augustus of Segovia. May your stay with us be a prosperous and adventurous one!” 

Aloud the prince replied echoed her toast with a loud “May it indeed!” Under his breath, he could not help but wonder what he had gotten himself into.  
******  
Later that evening, lying entangled with each other in the large four-poster bed Sorsha lay on her back her limbs sprawled out, and Madmartigan rubbing soothing circles into her back.

Aside from his tall, gangling, but well-muscled and br0ad-shouldered frame; he was a good kisser and an eager and enthusiastic lover, tender in bed when the moment called for it. “You so do love to regale young people with the adventure tales you just might get another chance.”

“Wait, what, I only heard about having to foster the Prince of Segovia because I actually read the last memo you left for me. We’re not getting another one so soon, are we?”  
“No, not as such,” she replied, running his heads through his thick mane of hair. “However, there might be another addition to our own family.”

Sorsha had mixed feelings on the subject when she had discovered that she might be pregnant. own mother had been, to put in mildly, a piece of work; and adding in the sorcery that had nearly lead to the destruction of everything and everyone involved in the battle, was just asking for disaster.

That aside, was she ready to be a mother? Was Madmartigan? 

Sorsha figured that this was a conversation that she and her husband should have had sooner rather than later, but the sex had been incredible, and as muddle-headed and forgetful of details and his own safety as he could be; Madmartigan did have his endearing qualities.  
It took a while for this to sink in, but when it did; the smile that he offered her lit up his entire long-bone face. “I’m going to be a father! This is the best news I’ve heard all week, And Sorsha, don’t you fret a whit, you have nothing to worry about! You will be a fantastic mother. And between you and me, our kid is going to be one wonderful kid!”

Sorsha was enveloped in one of Madmartigan’s bear-hugs and smiled at him. It was getting late and she was but tomorrow would be here sooner than she might have preferred, but it held a great deal of promise as well.


End file.
